grey.

After awhile, the digging, hateful words you speak become gibberish. A foreign language to my ears. Brain, heart, and soul choosing not to process the ugly thoughts you throw.

If you are going to speak in colorful tones, at least make it sounds like a rainbow.

I see no pigment in your voice. Only grey, dreary fear.

When you are ready to explore the new chroma and hue of happiness, wake me up. Because right now I'm dreaming in color, and my heart refuses to compromise by flipping to black and white.